Devour
by Just Another Soul
Summary: -"She is a scary girl, isn't she?"- Before their first kill in Roanapur, Hansel and Gretel come across a ghost woman.


**Devour**

de⋅vour

–_verb_

1. to swallow or eat up hungrily or ravenously  
2. to consume destructively, recklessly, or wantonly  
3. To prey upon voraciously

Disclaimer: Black Lagoon and its characters © Rei Hiroe

* * *

The night was dreary and filled with gloom. Dark clouds shielded the moon, depriving the terrible city of its luminescent glow. Speckles of artificial light from the buildings chased away the heavenly stars and filled the sky with an eerie blackness. A horrendous fog draped itself over the city as ominous winds howled through the back alleys and carried cold, horrendous whispers.

Light-hearted giggles and soft voices pierced the ghoulish night, making the atmosphere all the more frightening.

"_My mother has killed me...  
My father is eating me...  
My brothers and sisters...  
Sit under the table...  
Picking up, bury them...  
Under the cold marble stones..."_

Two beings who fed upon the stench of blood and fear of a victim before their final breath, vampires lurking in the night, more of their child-like laughter followed, the clicking of their heels echoing throughout the alleyways.

"What shall we sing now, _sora mea_?" It was the voice of a child, sounding much like that of a young boy's. The voice was met with a high-pitched twitter.

"I don't know, _frateli mea_. What song would _you_ like you sing?" The tone of the second voice was most reminiscent of a young girl's.

"Hmm... Ring-a-Ring-a-Roses?" the boy asked, awaiting the girl's response.

"Oh, but that is such a sad song _frateli mea_," the girl said laced with a ghastly cheerfulness.

"But _sora mea,_ this is such a sad place," the boy commented, equally as cheerful as the girl. The little girl hummed in thought.

"Indeed, you are right. This place _is_ very sad." Together, the children giggled happily at the statement, their titters clinging to the stagnant air around them. They held each other's hands and skipped in sync, splashing the muddy puddles below.

"The Italians were very clear about the murder. Do you think we'll find the Russian lady at this time of night?" asked the girl. Her male counterpart shrugged.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps we shall find her, or perhaps we'll find... a _monster_. They like these kind of places," the boy said, grinning.

"Oh! A monster? That sounds so exciting!" The vampires giggled and pranced, a feral cat wailing as one of them carelessly stepped on its tail. They ignored it and continued forward.

"_Frateli mea_?" the girl asked aloud, her mind wandering.

"Yes, _sora mea_?"

"Can you remember who said 'Cannibalism is the highest form of love'? Was it Edgar Allen Poe?" The boy looked up at the moonless sky in thought, doing his best to cite the person who had made the quotation and answer his sister's question. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, a gut wrenching scream pierced the eerie calmness of the children's disturbing conversation.

Their senses sharpened and they ran towards the source, curious as well as eager to see what situation may have caused the enthralling sound. Judging from the echoes, it was only a few steps away. The waifs came upon a horizontal alleyway that came just at the end of the vertical one they had been skipping along. Instead of walking any further, the children stopped and decided to hide behind a dumpster as they heard heavy footsteps and staggered, labored breathing. They peeked around the corner of the rusted, green trash container and saw a man appear.

His clothing was tattered and stained with sludge, grease and blood. He was sweating profoundly, his eyes frantic and desperate as he limped, using his right leg to weakly jump forward as he literally dragged his left behind him. The limb was badly slashed to ribbons, barely even connected by several centimeters of tissue. He tripped and fell flat on his face.

Refusing to give up, he stretched out his right arm and pulled himself forward with a sob. The children noticed that his left arm was completely gone. The young siblings looked at each other, smiling as they both pondered upon ending the man's existence. Surely, it would an entertaining event...

"NO! _NO!_ STAY BACK! DON'T KILL ME! _PLEASE!_ _**PLEASE!**_" the man hollered as he struggled to get away. The children knew from where his eyes were directed as he looked over his shoulder that he wasn't talking to them. He pulled himself out of their view. The young viewers pouted, but were still generally quite curious. Who, or _what_, was he yelling at?

Before they could wonder further, a dark shadow swiftly, silently moved across, only coming into the waifs' line of vision for a mere second. The children's pupils dilated. Was _that_ what the man was so afraid of? Now quite interested in the scenario unfolding before them, they quietly stepped away from the dumpster and moved towards the end of the alleyway to get a better look. Doing their best to stay hidden, they hugged the brick wall and slowly peeked over the edge.

They could clearly see the desperate man they had seen before, but the figure that had cast the dark shadow was difficult to make out. While the man begged for this life and struggled to move, the children were still doing their best to interpret what that dark figure was. It was strange that the man was so simple to see clearly, yet the dark, mysterious shadow that terrified him was extremely difficult to identify. Even when they squinted, all they could make out was a thin, short outline of a person and a dull glint coming from a long bar of what seemed to be metal. It was as though this being had an aura of darkness surrounding them.

"Is it a _monster_?" the girl whispered quietly. The boy didn't answer. The persons were positioned in a way that allowed the children to see them from their sides, profile views of the bodies. The cowering man had hit a dead end, chain-linked fences bound together by locked chains, and turned over to face the shadow.

The dark clouds that had tightly clung to night sky above slowly parted from the moon, and its transcendent, _eerie_ glow descended upon the mysterious figure.

The shadow was revealed. A young female clad in _dark_ striped sleeves, a _dark_ shirt, a _dark_ leather belt across her chest, connected to a customized holster for a chainsaw on her back, a short, _dark_ frilled skirt, soft, _dark_ stockings and menacing, _dark_ anarchy boots that came up to her knees. The rings upon her delicate fingers glimmered in the moonlight, as did the chains and pendants around her scarred neck. The guide bar of the chainsaw that was held in the young woman's left hand exhibited a brilliant shine, a beauty hardly deterred by the traces of blood along the metal. Pitch black hair framed a fragile face with blood red lips, a small, delicate nose, eyes a terrifying shade of blue sapphire, and flawless, _ghastly_ pale skin.

"A ghost," the boy muttered, amazed.

"Don't... Don't... DON'T KILL ME! I'LL DO ANYTHING! _ANYTHING!_ JUST DON'T _FUCKING_ KILL ME! PLEASE! _**DON'T!**_" The man pleaded pitifully. The cries fell upon uncaring ears as the ghost woman said nothing in return, taking a step towards the helpless male with a nonchalant expression.

The clouds completely departed from the moon and the lunar form was on full display, enveloping the ghost with its glow as a howling wind wrapped itself around her and whipped about at her hair and clothing. The ghost woman's mouth formed a cruel grin and her eyes glimmered with mirth. With one mighty pull of string, the engine of her chainsaw roared and the metallic teeth on the guide bar hissed violently as they rotated, the sounds of a famished beast. The ghost woman raised her weapon in the air and the light from the moon glinted whimsically off of the guide bar before she brought it back down and drove the mechanical beast through the man's gut.

Aching, desperate, _agonizing_ screams were drowned out by the thunderous bellows of the chainsaw. Splatters of crimson flew about in every direction, hitting the dingy ground below and staining dark clothing, finding solace upon a flawless, delicate white face and complimenting rosy lips surrounding a pearly, sinister smile. Cruel blue eyes sparkled with malice as the carbide-covered teeth of her beloved beast moved further up and ate away at the torso and the chest of her victim. She took her time inch by painful, _exquisite_ inch, savoring every moment as the hungry teeth ate through a strained throat, moving upwards and cutting a jaw and tongue in two, traveling further towards the center of the nose and right between the eyes, tearing its way through the top of the scalp. When the gruesome display of the ghost woman's sadism was finished, the man was dead, cut cleanly in half — vertically— from the belly up.

The children's eyes were wide, fascinated.

"_Beautiful_," they whispered in tandem. Though the children themselves had committed worse physical cruelties in their time, they were absolutely astounded by the _passion_ this sinister ghost woman displayed. Never before had they seen anyone with so much ardor and zeal for actions so macabre and violent. A seemingly simple act of cutting a man in half with a chainsaw was treated as a grand spectacle with detailed and immaculate precision. This strange, _ghastly_ being was the epitome of vehement brutality. Beautiful. Absolutely _beautiful_.

Skin, clothing and weapon stained with crimson highlighted by the lunar sphere above, the ghost woman's smile disappeared and the winds died down. She drove the carbide teeth of her mechanical pet through the weak chains that locked the center of the chain-linked fences together and kicked them away with the thick sole of her boot, the gates swinging open with screeching groans and leading towards an open field shrouded in a ghoulish fog. The young vampires thought the ghost was going to disappear into the mist, but she did no such thing. She stood there for a good ten seconds, her head held down and her back facing their peeking eyes. She reached towards the area of the belt near her lower back and pulled out a small white object reminiscent of a microphone. There was a small click and then a long, haunting hiss.

"**It wasn't Edgar Allen Poe..." **The vampires' eyes widened in fascination. Truly, this woman really _was_ a ghost. No mortal being could have been capable of uttering speech in such a nightmarish manner. They had absolutely no idea the mechanical device she was holding to her throat was what was causing the spooky voice. The ghost woman was standing in a position that completely blocked their view of her artificial larynx.

"**Poe seems more likely to be inclined... to necrophilia..."** the ghost woman continued. " _**'Cannibalism is the highest form of love.' **_**That seems more like something... Issei Sagawa would say... or perhaps Richard Matheson..."** The young vampires both slowly exhaled, completely ignoring the woman's commentary on the conversation they were having mere moments before and focusing more on her ghostly tone of voice. However, that didn't leave the children speechless. She was saying things aloud like she was talking to somebody. It couldn't have been the dead man.

Was she talking to the children? Did she _know_ that they were there?

"You know we are here?" the girl asked. The ghost woman turned her head slightly and looked at the edge of the wall the vampire children were peeking over.

"**I've known you were there... for quite a while... The alleyways in this city... carry echoes quite well... You two weren't very quiet... when you had your discussion... If you want to be stealthy... I suggest whispering more often... or remaining silent," **advised the ghost woman. She didn't bother telling the waifs that she also had an acute sense of hearing. It was a miracle that it hadn't been damaged in all of the years she wielded a chainsaw. The little vampires remained quiet, letting the ghost woman's words sink in.

"**Well... there is no point in hiding behind that wall... I know you two are there already... Come out..."** The two vampires took slow steps away from the wall, the darkness losing its grip on their tiny forms and being enveloped by the moonlight. They were identical twins, one boy and one girl, both having platinum hair and dressed in attire that would be most appropriate for a funeral or some other solemn occasion. The boy was holding a battle axe in one hand, and the ghost woman was willing to bet that he probably had a second blade for a matching set hidden somewhere in his coat. The girl was carrying a large object obscured by a blanket with a little blue teddy bear ornament hanging by a string, but it would be most likely there was probably either an automatic rifle or a grenade launcher underneath. Instead of having their usual cute, light hearted, _disturbing_ smiles, their mouths were formed into little o's and their eyes were filled with awe and wonder as they stepped closer to her.

The twins stopped walking and stood a meter and a half away from the ghost woman. They continued to stare at her, astonished. They had never met a ghost before, especially one that enjoyed cutting people up with a chainsaw. If the vampires were in any other situation, they would try to kill this being in a most abhorred manner in an effort to absorb her lifespan and perhaps even her own power, but they _weren't_ in any other situation. This woman was a ghost. She was already dead. It would do absolutely no good for them to try to kill someone who was already dead.

When they had seen her eyes while she gored the man alive, they noted that were not like any other set they had ever seen before. Her eyes were just so _beautiful_. It was an entrancing mix of cruelty and macabre, the frightening and the dreadful, the morbid and the grim, laced with a wonderful dose of malice and loathing, all of it contained within cold, creepy blue spheres. Surely, any act of violence against this being would result in a haunting and dreadful curse, and that would not be a very pleasant thing.

She also reminded the twins of a porcelain doll, and it would be an awful shame to attempt to kill someone that looked so pretty.

A nerve wracking silence clung to the air as the twins continued to gaze at her in wonder, an indifferent expression gracing the ghost woman's face as she got a good look at the young vampires' eyes.

... Deranged, irrational, schizophrenic, maniacal, and utterly psychotic, the both of them. Two bodies that shared a demented soul and an even more twisted mind. They had absolutely no self-control and had little to no ability to discipline or contain themselves when appropriate. Helpless puppies that got kicked one too many times and eventually grew to be rabid dogs that foamed at the mouth, pissing and shitting everywhere and mindlessly devouring everything in their path until there was nothing else to tear apart but themselves.

The ghost woman smirked.

"**... I see... So that's how you are..." **After placing her beloved chainsaw into the holster on her back, she knelt down and grabbed the dead man by the foot, planning to drag the body to her meat packing plant. As she stood up, she looked at the twins through the corner of her eye, still keeping her Ultravoice out of their view.

"**Think on these words, children,"** she began.

"_**In his lonely solitude... the solitary man feeds upon himself; in the thronging multitude... the many feed upon him.... Now choose."**_

With that said, the ghost woman dragged the mutilated corpse behind her, entrails and blood leaking out of of the giant gash caused by her chainsaw, and walked into the ominous fog, disappearing. With her departure, the dark clouds obscured the brilliant moon once more and left the vampires in darkness.

"She is a scary girl, isn't she?" the boy asked, a smile returning to his face.

"Indeed, she is very scary," said his sister, reflecting his expression. The twins giggled as they turned away from the fog and began to walk down the opposite end of the alleyway.

"What do you think she meant by those words, _sora mea_? Do you think it was a warning?"

"I don't really know, _frateli mea_. It could have been a warning. Or perhaps she is just trying to confuse us. I think ghosts like to do that sort of thing."

"Hmm, I guess you're right. Ghosts do like to disorient people, after all." There was a long pause between them.

"Lets focus on finding the Russian lady now. The Italians won't be very happy if we don't kill her," said the brother, breaking the silence.

"True, true," said the sister, gleeful. As they approached an opening that led to a public street, some men belonging to the Russian mafia walked by, not noticing the tiny waifs. The twins looked at one another and their grins grew wider.

"... But that doesn't mean we can't have some fun along the way."

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Sawyer the Cleaner turned the faucet and cut off the flow of water, wiping her hands on a towel. She was wearing her full surgeon's scrubs, complete with a mask and goggles, as she began to a put on a new pair of latex gloves. She had a cleaning job that was dropped off by Hotel Moscow several minutes ago. Cleaning up in general was nothing new to her, but it was rather rare for Miss Balalaika to demand her services. She assumed Mr. Chang recommended her, but the thought didn't go any further. Sawyer knew she was being paid to dispose of the new corpses that had just arrived, not ponder upon why Hotel Moscow wanted her to clean for them when they normally took care of the unsavory deed on their own.

There was a large suitcase waiting for her in the center of the floor. Taking her chainsaw off of a nearby table, she went over to the suitcase and undid the latches. With two clicks, the suitcase opened and two small bodies came into view. Sawyer tilted her head to the side.

Well, well, it was the little vampires.

Sawyer noted that one of the bodies had been shot in the kneecap and was missing a hand, while the other had a bullet wound straight through the head. It was quite obvious they were not self-inflicted.

Her mind briefly went back to the encounter she had had with them several weeks ago. The night of one of her occasional bounty hunts, she recalled the twins looking upon her with awe and wonder with their deranged eyes. She knew from the very beginning they were going to die in this city. Rabid mutts that were _completely_ incapable of controlling their violent urges and pissing upon the manner of which things worked in Roanapur always ushered a guaranteed death.

"_In his lonely solitude, the solitary man feeds upon himself; in the thronging multitude, the many feed upon him. Now choose."_

That was the quote she had told them shortly before departing. The cleaner knew from the very moment she had laid her eyes upon them that they were going to be consumed, either by themselves or by the evil within Roanapur, one way or another.

"_**... So, **_**this** _**was your choice..."**_ Sawyer thought.

Without missing a beat, she pulled the cord on her chainsaw and started the engine. The beast roared as it dug its carbide-covered teeth into flesh and blood, and satiated its appetite.

* * *

**A/N:** I remember that Hansel and Gretel were actually just supposed to kill Balalaika, but the twins had made a comment that they had killed eight people at the beginning of their story arc. My mind just concocted a "what if" story and it ended up with the two of them meeting up with Sawyer the Cleaner.

If I didn't make it prominent enough, this first part of this fic takes place before the Bloodsport Fairytale arc, the second half takes place after the twins die.

The "solitary man feeds upon himself" quotation was made by Friedrich Nietzsche. Now Nietzsche is not exactly the first philosopher I would choose to follow in terms of morality, but that particular quote seemed appropriate for the content of this story. I came upon it when I was trying cite whoever said "Cannibalism is the highest form of love," and I failed miserably. I ended up just going along with the "possible" citations of Richard Matheson or Issei Sagawa (personal nod to Amigodude for bringing him to my attention).

Even amongst all the odd characters in Roanapur, Sawyer definitely stands out, and I doubt she looked like _any_ of the people Hansel and Gretel have come across before. Even though they themselves wore gothic-styled clothing, I don't think Hansel and Gretel would have too much knowledge about the gothic subculture, and thus, it's more likely they would look at Sawyer and think "Oh, she's a ghost," as opposed to them thinking "Oh, she's a goth chick." Also going along that vein, even though they were more deranged than most adults, Hansel and Gretel were still children, so I don't think they would have too many skepticisms about the existence of ghosts compared to an adult or adolescent.

As you can all very well see, I know next to nothing about the Romanian language, so please forgive me for any errors I may have made concerning "_sora mea_" and "_frateli mea_."

Cheers.


End file.
